'NEATH skies of inveterate azure,
Where bitterns incessantly boom,
And, thridding each elfin embrasure,
Sleek satyrs enamel the gloom,
The gaunt and impassive gorilla
Emits a melodious moan
As he treads a sedate seguidilla
Aloof and alone.
The sun, with an amber emotion,
Darts down his importunate rays,
Distilling a petulant potion
Of pale and impalpable haze;
And scents of ineffable sweetness
Float up from the misty lagoon,
Fulfilling in utter completeness
Life's ultimate boon.
I know not what demons abysmal
Will out of the welter emerge;
What dews of delight cataclysmal
My desolate brow will asperge;
I only am sure that this stanza,
When handled by slingers of slosh,
Will always remain a bonanza
For building up bosh.
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